


Better than Chocolate

by pumpkin_latte



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Attempt at Humor, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Johnny and Taeil are there for like two seconds, M/M, Romantic Fluff, Strangers to Lovers, Taeyong is awkward, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Witch!Taeyong, a very long one shot, but it's very short, demon!Ten, demons and witches, halloween fic, idk if this should even classify as angst, mentions of blood in one scene, nothing gruesome i promise, very slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:40:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24677821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkin_latte/pseuds/pumpkin_latte
Summary: the one where taeyong accidentally summons a demon
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten
Comments: 18
Kudos: 164





	Better than Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seungwanslove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seungwanslove/gifts).



> I am so excited to finally post this!
> 
> I've been working on this since October 2019, when seungwanslove gave me this prompt: "i was thinking a witch!Taeyong when all he wanted was to spend halloween summoning candies upon candies to munch on for the night somehow ended up messing the spell and instead summoned a demon that is Ten..... lmfao might be cliche and all tho i tried hdgjsg"
> 
> And let me tell you, this prompt is *chef's kiss*, like - I went full-on hammy and cheese with this. Like, I have fallen in love with this prompt and this whole universe and my ass took off with all the ideas that came to my mind. For those of y'all that know my writing, ya'll know I gotta add that little dash of angst in there, it just gives it that little oomph. 
> 
> My dear seungwanslove, I really hope this meets your expectations! I am so sorry that this took me forever to complete. If you'd like, I can also do a 5 + 1 side fic (I may or may not already have several ideas for it haahaaa - ) just let me know! I hope you will still accept this really (REALLY) late gift! 
> 
> Anyways, I love you all. As always, please let me know what you think!

Candies.... candies... _more candies_.

Not _nearly_ enough candy.  
  
Taeyong exhales a puff of annoyance, hands planted firmly on his hips as he eyes the unsatisfactory piles of sweets that are chaotically organized across the living room.

He's been at it for what feels like... _hours_ \- well before the sun even set, well before kids began loitering the streets for sweet loot.  
  
" _Gum_... who the fuck wants gum for _Halloween_ ," he mutters, tossing the packet back inside the large burlap bag it had been summoned in, then crosses the room to the oversized _Book of Spells_ laid across his coffee table.   
  
He's got everything - lollipops, gummy candy, caramel candies, snack bars and soft chews, even fucking _chips_... but not enough chocolate.  
  
He _needs_ more chocolate - he's only got two king-sized bars of milk chocolate and _that's it_. A complete and utter fucking tragedy.  
  
"Bullshit," he grumbles, tearing open the wrapping of one the bars with his teeth while his free hand navigates through the tome, looking for a better spell, for one that's a little more _specific_ to his needs.  
  
The doorbell rings then, the loud chime echoing loudly across his house. He rolls his eyes, ignoring it... until it chimes again.

Then again.

And _again!_

The _audacity_ of kids these days, he would never understand it. He can hear them outside, their high pitched racketeering bouncing off the door and across the walls of his living room. He makes an incoherent sound deep from his throat, then shoots up from the couch and marches straight to the front door, cursing at the automatic porch lights he can never seem to turn off once the sun goes down - because yes, there are some things that even a witch's spell _can't_ control.  
  
The kids' bags are nearly full - they're the type who take more than they should. He can tell by their presence, by the particular air surrounding them and from the gentle whispers of the milkweed and daffodils swaying in his front yard.  
  
He opens the door _just_ enough to peek through a thin slit, glaring. "I don't have anything, go away," he hisses faster than the kids can manage to breathe the saying of the night.

The kids instantly frown. "Then _why_ is your light on?" asks one of them in a very challenging tone, which Taeyong finds _rich_ coming from a kid that isn't even wearing a costume.  
  
Taeyong pushes his brows together, fully annoyed. "They're _automatic_ \- now go away," he closes the door before they can coax his precious supply away... but then he opens it again when he gets _a thought_. "Actually... "

The kids stop, turning to look at him. The plants in his yard and inside his home pause for a moment, too.

"Wait here," he instructs, closing the door again. He dives straight for the slightly smaller burlap bag he'd summoned over an hour ago, the one with all the things he hates - black licorice, gum, and a flavor of hard caramel candy too sweet for him, but too tart for the undeveloped taste buds of these children. He cradles the candy against his chest as he wrestles the door open - careful that his _stash_ is hidden from their prying eyes - and smiles a dry smile, tossing an equal amount into each of their bags.

The kids pout with a hilarious look of offense on their faces. " _Ew_ , we don't want - "

"Have a _happy_ Halloween!" He cuts them off with a wicked smile, then slams the door shut, sighing, grumbling to himself because Halloween is the one day he hates. The _nerve_ of these humans to dress up as _them_ \- as witches and ghosts and demons and fairies, their costumes terrible and mocking. Of course, humans don't know any better. They think it's all pretend. They think they don't _exist_.

"Now where was I... " Taeyong sighs, staring blankly, scratching his head, but then his eyes perk. "Right, _chocolate!"_

There's just... _so much candy_ \- piles everywhere, bags everywhere, some overflowing, some already a quarter of the way empty. The living room is so crowded between his family of plants and burlap bags that he trips over one of the bags and jabs his knee onto the corner of the coffee table, dropping the heavy spell-book straight to the floor.

" _Fuck_ \- " he grunts, having landed right on his behind, surrounded by the chaos he's caused. The contents of the bag he'd tripped over are now covering a patch of his floor, the tome laying above them, and him in the middle of it all, rubbing his knee where he's sure an angry bruise will develop.

But then he notices something.

The page on which the tome now lays open, a page that seems to have been hand-selected by Fate herself.

The spell of _desire_ \- a spell that he's heard of only in hushed tones by the Nocturnal and Lunar Witches with more experience. A spell that can summon _anything_ , anything that his heart so deeply craves - and right now he wants a heaping supply of rich, decadent, melt-in-your-mouth chocolate.

He hastily pushes some of the candy aside, crossing his legs right there on the floor and pulls the heavy book onto his lap. He begins reading it, slowly at first, the language is older and quite taxing than what he's used to.

Now, he isn't sure if it'll work. Not a hundred percent, at least, but the spell, as far as he knows, isn't _malicious_ , either. He deems it relatively safe and reads until the requirements are mentioned.

Just one thing, that's it.

Just the thing he wants.

"Easy," he grins proudly, situating himself back on the couch. He finds the chocolate bar he'd been munching on before the disturbance and tosses half of it into the small cauldron that's been boiling over a portable stove on his coffee-table. He sure is glad he didn't knock _that_ over - _especially_ considering he is a _Hedge Witch_ and has the equivalent of the Noah's Ark of herbs and endangered plants growing inside his home.

He reads through the spell again, waving a small charm over the bubbling cauldron, his body bent over his lap with his nose nearly smushed into the worn pages as he tries to read the verse, struggling with some of the sounds and some of the words. When he reaches the end, he grabs a vial of charged water and carefully pours it into the cauldron, then pauses.

The spell is done, and the air has identifiably shifted, the plants suddenly becoming oddly quiet.

He grins widely, anticipating, saliva pooling in his mouth just from the _thought_ of chocolate, but glancing around finds him... nothing.

No new burlap bags, no new bags at all. Not even a single chocolate bar, not even a fucking snack-sized bar!

Nothing.

"Where did I mess up... " he mumbles, frowning and peering back at the spell. He runs a finger across the words when the air suddenly... stills.

When it seems to grow a little colder, with a distinct scent of something sweet, like petrichor.

A scent that seems to make the plants hum in harmony.

"Trick or treat."

A vicious shiver of fear dances up his spine from the voice that's behind him and he startles terribly, shaking straight through the marrow of his bones.

"You might be the prettiest one so far... "

It's a soft, silky voice, with an accent he can't quite pinpoint. His eyes widen, body transfixing when he feels a chilling breath brush against his nape. "Though... it would be nice to see more of that pretty face... "

Very, _very_ cautiously, Taeyong lifts his face to find the owner of the voice. He can sense something directly behind him and the plants tell him that a man is leaning across the back of the couch, and he slowly turns his face to meet the eyes of the thing he's just summoned.

Terrifyingly sharp, deep, _drowning_ almond eyes. Silky blonde hair that falls just above his shoulders and a tempting tilt of the lips that could lure anyone's heart.

A demon.

He went and summoned _a fucking demon_ -

Taeyong turns back to the book as if he hasn't seen a thing. The demon behind him gasps, sputtering as if he can't quite believe his eyes and he shifts his position so harshly that the couch shakes and the plants startle.

"Are you - did you just _ignore_ me?" the demon cries. He's sitting right beside him now, leaning forward to try and look at his face. It takes _every ounce_ of Taeyong's willpower not to as much as _glance_ in his direction.

The demon waves a proverbial hand in front of his face, but Taeyong, by nature, is incredibly stubborn and gifted in the art of _avoidance_. The demon makes an unintelligible sound, then shoots off the couch.

Taeyong releases a breath he wasn't aware he was holding but squeaks when a set of hands suddenly slam right against the pages of the tome, startling him enough that he hasn't a choice but to look up and directly meet the eyes of the demon.

_Fuck_ \- he's pretty.

And he's wearing so much black on his body that Taeyong is sure if he were to shut off the lights this man would be seen as nothing but a floating head.

" _What the hell_ type of person _summons_ someone and then _ignores_ them? Is this a joke? Do you know how much _energy_ it takes to travel - "

"I didn't summon you."

The demons brows furrow, a look of pure bafflement overtaking his features. "Well, I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but _you did_ , or else I wouldn't be here."

"No," Taeyong states, trying to keep himself from feeling intimidated under his unwavering, unintentionally _seductive_ gaze. "I summoned _chocolate_."

The demon sighs, long and hard and with such annoyance that Taeyong frowns, then the demon looks down to the book and tilts his head to the side, his hand moving off the title of the spell. Taeyong watches as a series of expressions filter through his face: confusion, then realization, then a breathy chuckle that normally would have a nerve pulsating in Taeyong's neck if it wasn't _so damn_ _cute_.

"This isn't a spell to summon _chocolate_ ," laughs the demon, leaning back and shaking his head. "This is a spell to summon _a Desire Demon_."

"N - no," he repeats with less certainty, then points to a particular spot on the page, "the text over here clearly said to sacrifice a little bit of what I want to summon _more_ of. I used chocolate as the summon, so I should have received... _chocolate_."

The demon leans down again. He artistically strokes the tip of his long, pointy, shiny black fingernails across a string of words and Taeyong's eyes follow the action, but he gets distracted with the way they catch the light. The man reads it aloud, his tongue well versed in the particular language.

Taeyong would never admit it, but the sound of the demon's voice reading the spell in the old language is more than just _a little_ attractive - it's fucking _hot_ \- and perhaps a little soothing, too.

Even the plants sway in agreement.

"This word here, that's the ancient word for _demon_ ," he says, voice no short of enticing, perhaps even seductive. Taeyong gulps, leaning back slightly to parallel the man in front of him who has leaned closer. He tries to avoid staring at him for too long. It's dangerous. His _eyes_ are dangerous, coaxing things out from his chest that he doesn't want to feel.

Fuck, he really is gorgeous.

So gorgeous that Taeyong hardly listens to the words coming out from between those pretty lips.

"Did you even hear me?"

He hadn't. He only shakes his head, unable to understand why he feels such an intense heat over his cheeks or why his heart is beating so fucking loud.

He couldn't possibly be attracted to him... _could_ he?

" _I said..._ " pauses the demon, cocking his head to the side with a smug smile, "that chocolate is my summon. You put chocolate in your pot - "

"Cauldron."

The man resigns with a sigh. "Cauldron," he repeats, "you put chocolate in your _cauldron_ , which summoned _me_."

Taeyong blinks. Once, then twice. Then again, and flatly asks, "okay, then what's the spell to get rid of you?"

_That_ has the man knitting his brows together with an offended gasp and a hand over his heart as if someone has just told him something unbearably insulting. He sputters something but Taeyong ignores him and flips through the book for a reversal spell.

"How _dare_ you - "

Taeyong cuts him off with a stern finger in the air, indicating that he wants him quiet.

For a significant minute, the demon _actually_ stays silent, perhaps at a loss for words, standing in front of Taeyong with a gaping mouth and a look of utter disbelief. "You're not going to find anything," he sighs, slumping onto the floor in a position so small that Taeyong _almost_ feels bad. "We don't exactly come with a return policy."

"Maybe that's something your kind should consider."

The demon doesn't reply to that.

Instead, he stays silent. So silent that Taeyong would think he's gone if not for the particular scent in the air.

"You... you really don't want me here?"

"No."

"I - " the demon pauses, "I could just give you company. I won't bother you, I promise, I'll just help you summon chocolate and stuff... "

It takes a second for Taeyong to reply, the thought striking a chord with him because it would be nice - chatting and drinking hot chocolate while summoning candies and pranking the annoying kids that come by and -

No, what in the heavens is he thinking?

He couldn't possibly do all those things with a stranger when he _hardly_ ever spends time with _his own friends_.

Taeyong parts his lips, then closes them again. "I really don't want you here."

Another silence, save for the silent protests of the plants, then the demon sighs with such defeat that Taeyong thinks he should reconsider.

"Well, I'm not one to stay where I'm unwanted," the demon pushes himself off the floor. For a few heartbeats, Taeyong holds his gaze but looks away when he walks closer and he automatically holds his breath.

Taeyong notices in the periphery of his vision that as the demon walks by the couch, his steps seem to slow, the tips of his long black fingernails stroking against the arm of the couch as if he's contemplating. He startles when the demon's sweet voice suddenly breaks the tension that was suffocating the air between them.

"If you change your mind," he starts, and Taeyong forces himself not to meet his eyes, "then there's a spell on page one thousand two hundred and twenty-seven of that book where you can summon me by name, so you don't have to sacrifice any more chocolate... "

Taeyong pouts without realizing it - he doesn't know what his name is.

After another short stillness of breath, the demon finally turns the corner, his fingertips still trailing along the edge of the couch as he does. Taeyong feels him lean against the back of it just as he had before and a chill runs up his spine when the demon whispers so close to his ear that he can feel his breath tap against the skin of his neck, "my name is Ten, by the way."

The air stills... and just like that the sweet scent of petrichor is gone.

Taeyong exhales the breath he'd been holding, turning around very quickly to see if maybe, _just_ _maybe_ he's still there...

... But he's not. And Taeyong doesn't understand why that bothers him.

* * *

"Fuck," Taeyong groans, glaring daggers onto the clock that's been harassing him for the past two hours.  
  
It's three in the morning.  
  
Three in the fucking morning and he's _still_ awake - he blames the demon.  
  
He's not here anymore, but he blames him. Why else would he still be awake? It has to be because of him, because of _Ten_.  
  
He'd felt... _captivated_ from the moment he met those dark eyes. Never would he admit it, not even to his plants, but he felt something _wonderful_.  
  
Now, that feeling is keeping him awake like flatulence after taco Tuesday.  
  
Taeyong sits up and rubs a tired hand over his eye, then into his messy hair. He sits there, vacantly, for a few minutes.  
  
 _Ten_.  
  
He only sees Ten. And he's positive that man cursed him in _some_ way.  
  
What or how, he isn't sure, but Taeyong knows he's done _something_. He just can't stop thinking about him.  
  
And it's annoying him.  
  
A lot.  
  
He perches himself on the edge of the bed, slipping into his fluffy slippers and pulls a blanket over his body like a cape because the air feels _colder_ than it was a few hours ago. Wrapped up like a burrito, he trudges towards the door, kicks it open, then freezes.  
  
He blinks once, then twice... then again just to be sure.  
  
Delusional. He must be _completely_ _delusional_. Absolutely out of his fucking mind because now he's _hallucinating_ that the demon is curled up on his couch, staring back at him with his pretty almond eyes.  
  
It must be his mind playing tricks on him.... except, _it isn't_.  
  
"Miss me?" smiles Ten, rolling his head to the side on the arm of the couch. He's balled up against its cushions, looking incredibly small and incredibly cold in such a fetal position that Taeyong _actually feels bad_.

He's also in a change of clothes from earlier. Just a simple loose black shirt and even looser sweatpants, also black. He wonders if that's a demon thing, or if it's just Ten's preference.  
  
"You're not here," Taeyong flatly tells himself. "I vanished you, you're not actually here. This is just a side effect of sleep deprivation," he nods, peeling his eyes away from Ten and walks right past the couch.  
  
"Actually, pretty witch... you summoned me back about an hour ago."  
  
"No, I didn't. You're a hallucination."  
  
He can hear the pout on Ten's lips - _how_ , he doesn't know, but he can fucking _hear_ it.  
  
He can also hear his footsteps right behind him.  
  
Taeyong sets a pot onto the stove, drapes the blanket over a dining chair, and ignores Ten exactly as he had earlier. He survives a few minutes with success as he gathers the ingredients he needs before stationing himself in front of the stove again. That is, until he feels Ten's presence directly behind him, the chill from his body encasing him despite the distance.

But he doesn't dare turn around. He stays decidedly still, hand firmly gripping the handle of the whisk, suddenly very aware of everything because he can feel the sigh that leaves Ten's mouth against the skin of his nape. It feels like rain. Like the sweet dew before dawn. And it forces a visible shiver to run down his spine.   
  
"You try so hard to ignore me," Ten sighs, his voice soft and airy and enticing. "But then you react like this every time I'm near you."  
  
It's not.... _untrue_.  
  
It's hard _not_ to react with someone like Ten just an arm's length away. He's... _intoxicating_ , and it's driving Taeyong crazy.

"I'm not ignoring _you_ ," Taeyong shrugs, still avoiding Ten's exploratory gaze. "I just choose not to acknowledge your existence."

"You're not very good with people, are you?"

Taeyong finally turns a little in his spot and meets his eyes.

He's too good-looking.

Too his type.

He promptly turns back around. "Very perceptive of you," he says, and Ten steps back enough for warmth to find Taeyong's body again. A part of Taeyong is ashamed to admit that he almost chased after the chill. "I have always preferred other species over the _human_ kind and their sub-species."

Ten _snorts_ , a sound that Taeyong labels as nothing less than annoying. He ignores it, focusing instead on scooping cocoa powder.

"Maybe you just haven't met the right... _human type_ , yet?"

Again, Taeyong ignores him. Ten makes a pained sound of defeat and retreats to another spot in the kitchen, which allows Taeyong the opportunity to _compose_ himself again.

"You have a lot of plants," Ten says from in front of one of them. He strokes a delicate finger across the edge of one of its petals.

The touch, it makes the plant happy, as if it's being kissed by a gentle ray of sunlight.

Taeyong knows because he can feel it's glee dance over his own skin.

"Which one is this?" 

"Polygala Vulgaris," he answers without turning around.

"It's beautiful."

The plant blooms a little at the compliment.

Taeyong turns to find Ten looking adoringly at the plant and a warmth blossoms in his chest at the sight of it. It's sudden, but he feels the urge to tell Ten how beautiful _he_ is. He wants to tell him that he's the most beautiful _human-type_ he's ever seen, but the moment Ten looks up and meets his gaze, Taeyong's confidence betrays him and he quickly turns back to the stove. "It is beautiful," he mumbles instead, "but sadly it's nearly extinct because the humans used it unsustainably."

A _terrifying_ chill dominates the air suddenly. It's for less than a second, but it's prominent enough that Taeyong stops breathing for its duration.

The air warms again.

"Humans destroy everything," Ten murmurs, a depth to his voice that makes Taeyong wonder what he must have endured to refer to them so coldly. "I'm glad these plants have a safe place in your home. Are you a Fairy Witch?"

"Hedge Witch," Taeyong corrects him.

"A very beautiful Hedge Witch," Ten says in a very soft, tender tone. He's moved closer. Taeyong can feel his eyes watching him and suddenly he's hyperaware, his breaths slowing just slightly, the fine hairs on his nape standing up. Ten leans close to him, standing directly behind him with such little space between them that the chill of his body surrounds Taeyong like a blanket, but there is no touch.

No pressure.

Just the anticipation between them.

Ten settles his hands flat on the counter on either side of Taeyong's body and breathes him in as if he's smelling the nectar from a flower. "You know... " he starts, his lips just an inch away from Taeyong's ear, "if you're waiting for me to make the first move, you're only setting yourself up for disappointment, little witch."

Taeyong doesn't reply - rather, _he can't_. It feels like his breath has been taken right out of his lungs. He parts his lips, trying to inhale, but they feel too fucking dry. He still doesn't reply. Not in words, at least. He doesn't quite realize it himself, but he leans back ever so slightly, so subtly that it would have been unnoticeable had their proximity been even an inch farther.

"I mean it," Ten breathes, his voice low, the tips of his fingers turning white with how hard he's pushing them against the countertop, "I won't touch you... won't even lay a fingertip on that smooth skin of yours until you give me permission to."

Taeyong swallows, _hard_. But he's stubborn.

So very _painfully_ stubborn.

And regardless of how desperately he wants Ten to push him up against the counter and kiss the breath out of him, he would never admit it and fall prey to such primal urges with someone he's only just met.

So he takes a deep breath, turns the stove off, then exhales in the calmest tone he can manage, "do you like whipped cream?"

Ten chuckles nervously. "W - what?" He finally retreats from behind Taeyong, leaning sideways against the counter with an incredulous expression. "If that's your kink then I'm sorry, I'm not into _food-play_ \- "

Taeyong's entire face flushes a deep shade of red and he finally looks up from the pot to Ten's face, "for your _hot chocolate_ , you fucking pervert!"

Ten seems... _genuinely_ _surprised_.

"Wait... _really?"_ he grins widely, hopping slightly in his spot with all the brightness of the stars shining in his eyeballs, "you - you made hot chocolate for me?"

Taeyong tries _very_ hard to stop himself from smiling, the genuine response from Ten being about the cutest thing he's ever witnessed. "Do you want whipped cream or not?"

"Yes, _please_ ," Ten _beams_ , his smile reaching his eyes, and Taeyong stares for a little too long because he's just _so fucking pretty_.

He's seductive, flirtatious, yet infuriatingly adorable and Taeyong hates the way his heart swells because of it.

If someone had told Taeyong yesterday that he'd be sitting on his couch drinking hot chocolate at four in the morning with a Desire Demon that he had accidentally summoned, he would have instantly cursed their home with a furious infestation of cockroaches.

Yet, that's _exactly_ what he's doing - and he hates to admit that he's _enjoying_ himself.

Maybe it's because he's become so conditioned to spending his days and nights in near-isolation that he'd forgotten the joy of having _company_ , even if it's that of a complete stranger. Connecting with people has always been a challenge for him because of his solitary nature as a Hedge Witch - couple that with his hopelessly awkward personality and his inability to hold up a dying conversation and you have what the humans would call the prime example of an _introvert_.

But with Ten, it's different.

With Ten, it's _easy_.

He can be himself. He can let his guard down just a little because Ten hasn't judged him... _yet._

"So... you said I summoned you again?"

Ten nods, setting his empty mug on the coffee table - Taeyong doesn't think he's ever seen anyone drink something quite so fast. "Almost two hours ago now."

"Are... are you _sure_?"

"Mhmm, I'm sure."

Taeyong crunches his brows, bewildered. "But I was _awake_ two hours ago, I was awake the _entire night_ and I'm _positive_ I never recited that spell _or_ said your name."

"Sweetheart," Ten leans forward then, a knowing gleam in his eyes that is too exposing for Taeyong's liking. "I can't just _appear_ in places like this. I'm not a _ghost_ ," he chuckles, "I need to be summoned _by_ _someone_."

Taeyong parts his lips but presses them again in defeat. He doesn't know how to reply to that. He was fully awake, he hadn't slept a second, so how could he _possibly_ summon Ten? He doesn't understand any of it, but it's too much for his brain to fathom when he's this sleep-deprived.

So laden he is with his thoughts that he doesn't notice Ten's eyes studying him with an adoring curve of the lips, but a soft squeak escapes his mouth when he finally does.

Ten doesn't look away.

This time neither does Taeyong.

"Why are you staring at me?" he asks in a near whisper.

Ten shrugs a shoulder. "You're just really cute," he says casually. Taeyong blushes a little at the compliment. "The people who summon me are usually... less than attractive and _a lot_ older, so this is really nice, even though, _you know_ , you summoned me by mistake."

For a quick moment, Taeyong contemplates replying to the compliment. He thinks maybe he should flirt back or compliment him too and live a little for once in his mediocre fucking life but, unfortunately, he hasn't the slightest clue _how_ \- he _really_ should've listened to all those dating tips his best friend, Doyoung, has been trying to teach him.

"Do you get summoned a lot?"

"Oh, I would say so. You'd be surprised how many _humans_ hire witches to summon me. They make great business by it, too," Ten says pointedly.

"I didn't think that many humans knew about the sub-species."

"Most don't," Ten leans a little closer, curling his hand beside his mouth as if he's about to spill a secret, "but you'd be surprised if you knew the lengths a _human-male_ with an abundance of wealth is willing to go just to feel sexually in control when their marriages no longer provide it for them."

"Wow, that's, uh... " Taeyong chuckles awkwardly, gulping down the rest of his hot chocolate because _what the fuck else_ can he reply to that? "Your accent," he starts after he places the mug on the coffee table and rearranges himself on the couch, once again becoming a burrito in his blanket, "where are you from?"

If he isn't mistaken... Ten _brightens_ undeniably, an excited gleam flashing across his eyes and the atmosphere at the question. "Thailand," he smiles widely.

"Oh... that's far from here. I'm sorry I made you travel so much."

"It's okay," Ten grins, "I get to drink this amazing hot chocolate and spend time with a gorgeous witch, so I would say it's worth it."

Well, if Taeyong wasn't entirely flustered before, he most certainly is _now_. He shifts his gaze anywhere that isn't Ten's eyes, trying to hide the pink on his cheeks but to no avail.

There's just something about him that's so hard to ignore. The particular air to him, the comfort in his presence that makes Taeyong want to take the risk and indulge in what he has to offer.

Now, he isn't one for one-night-stands... and Doyoung would have him by the throat if he ever found out but - maybe - just _maybe_... this is what he needs?

Just a little intimacy. Maybe a little conservation and a few laughs with someone who doesn't know a thing about him, with someone he doesn't know a thing about.

When he meets Ten's eyes, the answer seems to find him easily.

"So, uh... " he pauses, fiddling anxiously with a loose thread on his blanket. He glances to the space of the couch between them, then to the leaves of the potted Wollemi Pine behind Ten, then into his eyes. "You really won't touch me without my permission?"

It wasn't the question Ten was expecting, that much Taeyong can tell by the lopsided tilt in his smile and his brows.

"That's right," he replies.

"Do I - " Taeyong breathes, trying to keep his voice steady, "do I have permission to touch you?"

Ten... pauses. The air around him becomes motionless for such a short moment that it would have been unnoticeable to anyone else, but Taeyong has always been keen to notice these things. He's always been adept at catching the subtle shifts in the air that surrounds each person.

He sees the rise of Ten's chest as he intakes a silent breath and the air returns to normalcy. "You don't need my permission, sweetheart," he finally says.

Well, _why on earth_ wouldn't he? Taeyong doesn't understand it. "Why not? There must be people who summon you that totally gross you out or you aren't comfortable with, right? Shouldn't this be like... _consensual?"_

There's a hint of something in Ten's eyes that he can't quite read into. Maybe sadness, maybe a flicker of a painful memory.

"You really are admirable, you know that?"

Taeyong blushes harder than he would've liked, but he can't help himself. He hasn't heard little praises like this in... _years_.

Ten chuckles, noticing the flush on his cheeks. "But to answer your question, our summons are not consensual. We're more like... _property_ , if you will, of the one who has summoned us for the duration of our time with them."

_Oh_.

Taeyong had heard things, about the mistreatment and the lack of respect towards Desire Demons, the stereotypes attached to them... but it was never something he had a particular focus on. To him, they were rumors about a world he would never cross paths with, something that was not confirmed nor denied in the witch's world.

But now - as much as he would like to ignore the fact - his life _has_ crossed paths with that of a Desire Demon. And he might be beginning to care, just a little.

"That's... fucked up."

Ten shrugs, shifting in his spot until he's partially laid back against the armrest. "Yeah," he says, quietly, "but there's nothing we can do about it."

The information doesn't sit well with him. He knows it will keep him up at night for a few days or maybe a month, but what is he to do? Start a demon revolution to demand consensual sex?

No, he doesn't think so.

"Well... I would like your permission."

"What?" 

"I want this to be consensual," Taeyong says, a determined fire in his eyes as he looks directly into Ten's. "I'm not going to force you into anything, so... I would like to ask for permission to touch you."

If he isn't mistaken, there's a prominent shift that is no doubt caused in reaction to his request. The air, it suddenly tastes sweeter. It feels a little warmer, too. And Ten, he seems to be caught off-guard, his wide eyes blinking at him with an expression that implies he's never quite been in a situation such as this.

But his face is not displeased, either.

"Sweetheart," he sighs, a dangerous smile quirking his lips as he leans forward on his palms, "keep this up and I might catch feelings."

And Taeyong is certain that _he_ will catch feelings for _Ten_ if he keeps looking at him like that. He stutters silently, trying to find words, but Ten's eyes - his dark, hooded eyes with that particularly tantalizing gleam in them, the flirt on his lips and the teasing tongue that swipes over them... Taeyong is sure he wouldn't have been able to _breathe_ even if he tried.

"But to answer your question," Ten says, "you have my permission."

A nervous nod is all Taeyong can manage. "Okay, uh - thanks," he breathes, trying to keep the vibration of all the butterflies exploding inside his stomach from showing in his voice.

He takes a second before saying anything else, to think this over.

To _really_ think this over.

Because this isn't a human or another witch that he can forget about the next day. This isn't someone he knows, this isn't someone with little consequence, either - this is a _Desire Demon_.

This is someone that could bind his soul against his will and do the most terrible of things to his heart - or, at least, that's the rumor that circulates them.

Taeyong parts his lips, then makes up his mind with a determination that he's never felt before in his entire life. "Then... you have my permission, too."

The moment the words leave his tongue, _everything_ pauses.

The air, the plants, even the fucking moon just outside the window. It's as if the words he's just spoken broke an invisible barrier of some sort, enabling a force that he didn't even know existed. A force that he sees in the sudden shift in Ten's eyes, the flicker of _lust_ burning deep inside them. Taeyong holds his breath, his body transfixing, anticipating, because... _what happens now?_

Do they kiss? _Should_ they even kiss? Taeyong certainly thinks it would be nice, the feel of Ten's lips moving against his own, of his tongue and the bite from his teeth -

The air begins to move again. "You sure you want this, little witch?" asks Ten, his voice low, but with a noticeable undertone of concern. "You seem to be... in _thought_."

"No - I mean, I'm not in thought," Taeyong shakes his head, glancing to Ten's lips, his gaze lingering there for two heartbeats too long before he meets his eyes, "I just... I really want to kiss you."

_That_ is about the bluntest he's ever been, and he's proud of himself for a moment, thinking he's initiated the moment and that any second now Ten will move closer and take him by the lips but... he doesn't.

He doesn't even _try_ to close the gaping distance between them. Instead, Ten grins and leans back against the arm of the chair in such a manner that it seems like an _invitation_.

"Then kiss me," he says with a tempting raise of the chin, the silk in his voice no short of _challenging_.

It feels as if the molecules in the air are suddenly too heavy to inhale. Taeyong parts his lips with an unsteady breath, his heart racing off the fucking tracks because he hasn't done this in years.

Intimacy, even in its mildest form, is entirely lost in his life. How long has it been since he's kissed someone? He couldn't recall even if he tried, especially not right now, with Ten's eyes encouraging him to move closer.

He nods weakly, then leans on a palm, crawling on his hands and knees until he's sitting directly in front of Ten with his legs folded under him. A few inches. That's all that's between them and Ten _feels_ different from this close. His aura, it's stronger, and Taeyong can feel the subtle changes in its waves deep inside his bones.

And he can tell from the air surrounding him, that despite the collected expression on his pretty face, that Ten is a little nervous, too.

That he's expectant and excited, as if he's experiencing something _new_. Something beautiful.

"You're going to kiss me from so far away?" There's an amused smile on Ten's face as he repositions himself on the couch, spreading his legs until there's an inviting little space right between them. "Why don't you come a little closer, sweetheart," he pats the spot with a hand and Taeyong, without a second thought, scoots closer on his knees and carefully fits himself between his legs.

_Finally_ , he feels a little bit of Ten against his body - from Ten's calf that presses against his hip as Ten adjusts his position, and his knee that's touching the inner-part of Ten's thigh.

It's a radiance of sparks.

An electric feeling, almost.

Taeyong chuckles awkwardly, suddenly feeling awfully shy. He drops his head between his shoulders because the look in Ten's eyes is so fond that he can feel a blush spreading hot across his cheeks. He looks down at Ten's hand that's flat on the couch between them, then reaches forward with a finger and pokes the tip of his long, pointy fingernail.

Ten laughs softly, and it's the cutest fucking thing Taeyong has ever heard. "Why are you stalling?" he asks, pressing the tip of his finger against Taeyong's. He gently strokes down the length of his digit with slight pressure.

His touch is... _cold_.

Not the type of cold that elicits a shiver or discomfort, no. Ten's touch is pleasant, comforting, like that of a refreshing iced drink after a hot summer day in the sun. One of the best feelings in the world, if Taeyong does say so himself. It's something he wishes he could feel forever.

"I'm just... " starts Taeyong, trying to find the answer within himself. He lightly intertwines his fingers with Ten's own and the air thickens a little, the sweetness dominating it leaving a honey-like taste on his tongue. "I haven't been with anyone in a _really_ long time," he admits with a breathy chuckle, his heart pounding because of Ten's fingertips drawing little circles on his hand, "and I'm shy and a little awkward so I'm sure I'll end up missing and kiss you all wrong and then you're going to remember me as _the-witch-that-accidentally-summoned-you-twice-then-turned-out-to-be-the-worst-kisser-in-the-universe_ and then I'll end up becoming the joke of all the demon parties."

Ten laughs heartily, _beautifully_. Fuck, it sounds like music to Taeyong's ears and he can't help but laugh too. Not only because he knows how fucking ridiculous he sounds, but also because this feels... _wonderful_.

Being like this, _exactly_ like this... he feels _happy_.

And a part of him wishes he could summon Ten every day for the rest of his life.

"I don't know about that," Ten's laughing dribbles down to soft chuckles and he pushes himself forward, his hand sliding on top of Taeyong's own. "But I'll definitely remember you as the beautiful witch that made me a hot chocolate," he leans closer and extends his hand towards Taeyong's face, slowly, as if he's asking.

Taeyong tilts his head until the tips of Ten's fingernails brush against his cheekbone and he sighs at the feel of it, at the sensation of being touched so delicately. There's satisfaction in Ten's smile as he pushes a few bangs away from his eyes and strokes the back of his hand down the curve of his face so intricately that Taeyong's breath hitches.

"Don't the humans who summon you offer hot chocolate?" Taeyong asks quietly, half-genuinely, but mostly as a tactic to calm his nerves.

"Oh, _never_ ," Ten hums, the vibration of his voice settling in the air between them. "They usually only offer me alcohol, to get me drunk." He curls his hand on the side of Taeyong's neck, his thumb tracing along the underside of his jaw with slight pressure.

His touch feels too good.

It feels like sunshine during the spring rains - a little cool, but warm in its essence. And Taeyong understands why his plants like him so much.

He understands why they wanted him to stay.

"But alcohol doesn't have that effect on _us_... " breathes Taeyong, finding it incredibly difficult to focus on words. There's a lopsided grin on Ten's parted lips. Soft and flirty, but holding a millennium of secrets behind them.

"What _they_ don't know," he says, a deepness in his eyes as he looks right into the brown of Taeyong's, "won't hurt us."

It's for a fraction of a second, but Taeyong senses the slight shift that had controlled the air just then. The sudden drop in temperature that paralleled the tone of his voice. He inhales a broken breath to ask what he means by that, but he doesn't find it in himself.

He can't.

It's as if Ten is controlling the flow of air inside his lungs through just his fingertips alone.

Ten grazed his other hand up Taeyong's arm, then across his thigh until he settles it casually on his waist. "Do you want me to take control, sweetheart?"

Taeyong nods faster than his brain processes the question. "Yes," he breathes, almost inaudibly, the rapid pace of his heart pounding so hard against his rib-cage that he's sure Ten can hear it.

His answer seems to bring joy to Ten's features, the corners of his mouth instantly curving into an alluring grin. Then - _finally_ \- Ten closes the gap between them. Slowly. _Very_ fucking slowly.

Or, maybe it's just the air that's slowing down, becoming dense and thick like a heavy downpour over a rainforest. Ten kisses so gently just beside his ear that it hardly even qualifies as one. A meaningless peck. Soft and bare like the first droplet of rain to fall from the clouds.

Then, with a little more of a press, he kisses a line across his jaw and a feeling spreads across Taeyong's chest. The same feeling that he'd felt when Ten had admired his plants.

A bloom.

He holds his breath, his eyes squeezed shut, fingers digging into the cushion when Ten experimentally brushes their lips together. Teasingly. Purposefully building him up.

Taeyong parts his lips, expecting Ten to capture them any second.

_Any second now_...

But then he feels Ten _lean away._

"You're fucking adorable."

Taeyong opens his eyes, annoyed and embarrassed and a whine already past his tongue, "will you just kiss me already - "

Ten kisses him.

He kisses him on the lips and he tastes like spring. Like the first bloom after bitter winter. The first sprout that sees the sky.

A soft sound of surprise leaves Taeyong's throat, and it takes him a second to react, a second to function again before he presses back. He brings a hand to Ten's cheek, raking his fingers up his silky hair, but before the kiss can deepen, before it has a chance to build any real pressure, Ten pulls away by just an inch.

"You taste like roses," he whispers. "Roses are my favorite."

Taeyong sighs in response, trying his best to find his vocabulary again. "Rain," he mumbles, forcing his eyelids apart so he can see Ten.

Fuck, he's close.

His features are unfathomably striking from here, too. The curve of his lashes, the dewy look of his skin. The embodiment of beauty.

"Rain?"

Taeyong nods, swallowing thickly, half his mind distracted by Ten's fingers teasing his earlobe. "You taste like rain. Like... "

"Pollution?" Ten gasps, playfully feigning insult.

Whoever said that demons are mean, serious creatures have obviously never met _Ten_.

Taeyong juts his bottom lip forward in an annoyed pout, slouching a little in his spot. " _No_. You taste like... like petrichor."

Nothing. Nothing at all could rival the smile on Ten's face. It's genuine and so fucking soft that Taeyong feels his heart pull a little and he almost curses himself.

He can't develop such feelings so fast.

It's dangerous business if he does.

But he finds it hard to stop himself, too. It's been too fucking long, and his heart is just about ready to throw itself into someone else's arms.

"I think that's why your plants like me so much."

Taeyong's expression contorts with surprise. "You can tell?"

"Of course I can tell," he chuckles, bringing his hand down from his ear and curving it along the side of his neck. "Now, tell me, pretty witch, how far would you like to go?"

The question finds Taeyong with a mighty blush spreading across his face. He blinks a few times, trying to sort between his heart that's telling him to go for the home run, and his mind that's begging him to take it just a little slower.

He opts for his mind.

"Not - not _all the way_ ," he says, shyly, looking down between their bodies to the sofa between them. He's afraid that Ten's eyes might coax him into something he isn't ready for yet. "But... like, I'm up for a hand-job or something," he shrugs nonchalantly.

Ten throws his head back, laughing, his pearly teeth catching a glimmer of the light. "For someone so shy, you really are quite straight-forward."

Taeyong frowns, his brows knitting and he inhales a breath to complain but it's snatched right out of his lungs by Ten's lips.

And this time, it's a proper kiss.

A kiss that's so bruising that Taeyong's breath catches in his throat, his chest burning with feelings he's never felt before, a current radiating from his lips because Ten feels like thunder.

He feels like everything Taeyong adores and he can't help but wrap both his arms around Ten's shoulders, pulling him closer. The vibration of Ten's hum on his lips courses through his skin, and he finds a rhythm against Ten's lips, like the push and pull of the waves with the moon. Ten hooks his arm around his waist. Strong. Secure. Nearly lifting him off the couch as if he were as light as a feather.

Now, Taeyong is skinny - his friends might even say that he's _too_ skinny, like a free-flowing noodle in the wind - but the way Ten handles him, the way he moves his body with such fucking ease, Taeyong knows it isn't _just_ his lack of weight.

It's as if there is no gravity between them. Perhaps Ten is just _that_ strong - although, he certainly doesn't look it. His short stature and delicate features imply anything but physical strength, but Taeyong guesses it might have something to do with him being _a demon_ and all.

Ten pushes him back against the couch until he's laid on his back, and slots his knee between his legs, spreading them apart.

"I'll give you the best fucking hand-job of your life, pretty witch," breathes Ten into his mouth, his eyes dark and terrifyingly beautiful. Taeyong feels as if his heart might explode from excitement.

When he takes him by the lips again, there's a pleasant bite to it. Ten sinks his teeth into the flesh of his bottom lip, tugging it. When he lets go, there's a grin on his face that increases Taeyong's body temperature by a few degrees. He feels the points of Ten's fingernails comb up his scalp, slowly, taking his time to tease every part of him. To _feel_ every part of him.

And it's a feeling that's incomparable to anything Taeyong has ever felt before. It's different from a human's touch, but a witches' touch is nothing like it, either. It's cold - _teasingly_ cold - yet it spreads heat across Taeyong's body and he fucking loves the contradiction.

He wonders if every demon is like this, or if it's just Ten.

For a moment, Ten only looks at him. He looks at him with eyes as if he's admiring a beautiful, intricate sculpture, his fingers gentle as they praise a line down the dip of his throat and along his clavicles, pulling the fabric of his loose shirt off his shoulder and Taeyong shudders.

He's certain it must be the unholy time that's making him do this, but he licks his tongue across the seam of Ten's lips with intent, aching to feel them again. A breathy chuckle is how Ten responds to it, and Taeyong hates the way it makes him blush. "Kiss me," he mumbles through a pout, fisting his hands on the sides of Ten's shirt.

A devilish, uneven grin curves the very corners of his lips and he raises his chin in a manner that is no less than challenging, his eyes penetrative. He strokes the tip of his fingernail down Taeyong's chest, purposefully over his nipple, making him squirm. "What do we say when we want something?"

Fuck - Taeyong thinks he might go crazy.

The sudden dip in his voice, the way his eyes flickered with a rush of lust - Taeyong knows he's fucked.

Because, despite how unwilling he is to admit it, the words, coupled with that edge that had slipped in his tone, is enough to get him _hard_.

Of course, he should have known that a one-night stand with a Desire Demon was going to be anything but _easy_. 

Taeyong parts his lips with a silent whine, his lashes fluttering when Ten hums in question, raising a brow, waiting for him to answer.

A slow, shuddering breath, then Taeyong finally manages to get the word past his tongue. " _Please_."

"Please what?"

Taeyong keens eagerly. " _Please_ kiss me."

There's satisfaction on Ten's face as he smiles down at him, a look that implies that he's about to receive exactly what he's asked for. "That's a good boy," he says, nudging the tip of his nose against Taeyong's. He brushes his parted lips against his slowly, the delicate skin of his top lip sticking against Ten's for a second, and Taeyong puckers them, feeling rather impatient.

"You're so adorable," Ten chuckles, the sweetness of his breath settling thick on his mouth but Taeyong only focuses on the affection that had slipped in his voice.

Ten kisses him softly this time. Sweet and slow. He takes his time massaging his lips against Taeyong's, his hand stroking down between their bodies and every inch of skin that he touches makes Taeyong's heart skip. When he reaches the hem of his shirt, he slides his hand underneath the fabric, riding his shirt right up to his shoulders.

A chill dances up his spine - from pleasure, the exposure, and from the look in Ten's eyes as he leans back.

"Beautiful," he breathes, his gaze raking over every inch of his body until they stop at his eyes. "The prettiest human-type I've ever seen."

Taeyong inhales a breath to complain because that was supposed to _his_ line, but his words drown against Ten's lips, his vernacular lost from Ten's tongue slipping into his mouth, caressing against his own and Taeyong becomes pliant. With each consequent press, the kisses become shorter, messier, lewd in sound, and with more breath than touch but they build Taeyong up so high that he's sure he could touch the clouds.

But he's needy.

It's been fucking _years_ and his body doesn't have the restraint to take things slow - he feels as if he might explode if Ten doesn't touch him soon.

He tightens his grip on Ten's hips and pulls him straight against his body with a statement in his force, and rolls his hips, for good measure.

Ten giggles and it's a sound that's as gentle and sweet as a spring breeze. "You're very impatient, aren't you, sweetheart?" he breathes, smiling, then leans away from Taeyong to properly look at him. It takes a second for Taeyong to register what he's just said, the fingers drawing shapes of praise over his chest being about the most distracting thing he's ever felt.

"It's - _ah_ ," his words catch in a moan as Ten swipes an unrelenting finger over his nipple. "I told you that it's been a _really_ long time," he pushes out in one breath, should he lose it again.

"Oh, right. How long?" he asks, casually, as if they're having an idle conversation at a fucking cafe or something.

Taeyong could almost scream. He can't take it. The teasing, it's too fucking much. " _Seven years_ ," he enunciates the words with emphasis, hoping it gets the point across. Ten's eyes widen the slightest bit, but then he leans his face close again and tilts Taeyong's head to the side with a thumb under his jaw, bringing his lips right against his ear.

"I suppose you won't last very long, then," he whispers, his breath landing in waves of pleasure against his skin. "A shame," he drags his hand down his chest, over his stomach and right to the hem of his sweatpants. "I was hoping I could tease you a little longer," he strokes a tantalizing finger over his growing arousal and Taeyong's back arches in response, his fingers tightening on the flesh of Ten's hips. "But at this rate, you might just come the moment I touch you."

Oh, Taeyong does not doubt that. He can already feel the pre-cum soak into the fabric of his pants. " _Please_ ," he whines breathlessly, rolling his hips in search of friction against Ten's unmoving hand.

Finally, Ten touches him.

He rubs his hand over his erection with an agonizing pace, kissing a line down the curve of his neck, showering his skin with an assortment of touches between his lips, tongue, and teeth.

Taeyong is certain that his body is going to be dotted with marks by tomorrow - marks that he's sure he won't be able to hide.

"More - " Taeyong pleads, his words coming short and breathy. The sharp tip of Ten's pointer-nail caresses up the bulge of his throat, the press gentle, but firm, and he cups his cheek.

"What is it that you want more of, baby?" Ten breathes, his voice hoarse, sounding equally as disheveled as Taeyong looks.

The use of the pet-name alone is enough to make Taeyong moan. Very, _very_ loudly.

He tries to form even a single word in his mouth, but Ten's hand stroking over his cock is immobilizing his ability to formulate coherent speech. Instead, he reaches down between their bodies, his hand trembling as he lays it over Ten's, forcing him to use more pressure.

" _Ah_ , why didn't you just say so?" Ten giggles, an infuriating, innocent smile creeping across his face. He moves his hand altogether from Taeyong's crotch, and Taeyong is prepared to whine when suddenly he pulls his sweatpants down as far as their position allows.

Taeyong _gasps_ at the sudden chill hitting his bare skin and suddenly he feels incredibly shy. He doesn't mean to, it's an automatic reaction of his body, but he tries to bring his legs back together.

Of course, Ten notices.

"You're a walking contradiction, you know that?"

Taeyong, unable to form any sound that isn't a sigh, trails his hands underneath Ten's sweater, trying to offset the rapid increase of his body temperature with Ten's cool skin.

"Bold," he says with a kiss to his cheek. "Needy," then another kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Yet so... _shy_ ," he articulates with a gentle stroke over his erection, and Taeyong can't help but grip a hand tightly onto the arm of the couch behind his head - a feeble effort to try and ground himself.

Ten doesn't take his eyes off of his own for even a second. Carefully, he studies his reactions, analyzing what makes him squirm and what takes his breath away. He's etching it in his mind. Taeyong can tell because the erratic vibration in the air is suddenly calmer. A little more collected. And his eyes - his eyes are severely indulgent. 

" _Fuck_ \- " groans Taeyong, deep from the pit of his throat the moment Ten takes him properly into his hand, affording him two, persistent strokes up the entire length of his cock before he alternates to softer, more teasing touches. Ten sucks the soft skin just under his jaw into his mouth with a pleasant hum, then licks over it the exact moment he dips his thumb into his leaking slit, spreading the wetness down his length for better lubrication.

Ten jerks him off _hard_.

Taeyong feels his entire body betray him, every muscle clenching underneath his skin, with the taste of Ten's petrichor thick on his tongue as he pants heavily, chasing after breath.

It doesn't take him long at all to reach his high. They're only a few minutes in and he's already beginning to see stars. He tries to enjoy it a little longer, tries to hold himself back so he can stay enveloped in this bliss a little longer... but he can't.

It's been too fucking long.

Ten kisses him again, whispering hot against his lips, holding his face tenderly with his free hand as the other quickens its pace, "come for me, pretty witch."

Taeyong comes.

He comes _hard_ , all over Ten's hand and his stomach, his eyes clenching shut, body quaking, hands shaking as his skin burns with sensitivity, swear after swear rolling off his tongue and right into Ten's mouth.

Ten settles on top of him. If the sticky mess ruining his clothes bothered him, he certainly did not show it. He nudges against Taeyong, fitting his head under his jaw, soft and cute and nothing like what he would expect from a demon.

Slowly, he falls back into his senses. He brings a hand over Ten's back, rubbing it, still panting heavily. Then he notices that Ten's heartbeat is racing, too, despite having received nothing in return.

"I - " Taeyong tries, exhaling one, solid breath with the intent to regain his speech again, "you, my turn, now," he finally manages between breaths.

Ten chuckles, pressing a soft, heartbreaking little kiss right over his heart. "Just rest, sweetheart. Don't worry about me."

"But - "

Ten shuts him up with a kiss to his mouth. He smoothes his clean hand into his hair, then leans back on an arm to meet his eyes. " _Rest_ ," he says, a hard edge to his voice despite the softness.

Taeyong wonders why he's reluctant.

But it's late. He can hear the birds chirping outside, he can feel his plants waking up, ready to absorb the coming sunlight and he's too fucking tired to think about it right now.

He feels his eyes droop, but he fights them, wanting to look at Ten a little longer. Wanting to etch this moment and these feelings in his mind. But Ten shifts, moving off the couch and Taeyong chases after his touch the way his plants chase after rain.

" _Wait_ \- " he grabs his wrist, pulling him back, "Ten - "

It slipped.

He doesn't realize it until the air turns solid, unmoving and heavy and suffocating. Ten stops moving altogether, save for the rapid beating of his heart that Taeyong can feel through the air.

"I - " Taeyong stutters, "sorry. Am I... am I not allowed to say your name?"

Ten sighs, sitting down beside him on the couch. He stretches his arm across Taeyong's torso, leaning on a palm, his face shadowing over his own. The smile on his face makes Taeyong's heart tug in every direction. "You can say my name," he says, pushing some of his bangs off his forehead.

"Then... why did you react like that?"

"Because," he ghosts a thumb across Taeyong's bottom lip, "anyone hardly says my name."

Well, that isn't right. How could anyone have the audacity to summon someone for such intimate practices and then not even afford them the sound of their own name?

Taeyong would have a thing or two to say about that if he wasn't so fucking sleepy. "Then I'll say it for them," he stifles a yawn, tangling his hands in Ten's hair to keep him from leaving.

But Ten pushes away from his embrace, although subtly. "I'll help you clean up," he says, reaching down with a hand, and pulls Taeyong's sweatpants back over him the best he can. "Then I'll bid my leave."

"No, _don't_ \- " he pauses, looking deeply into Ten's eyes. "Don't go."

He doesn't know why he wants him to stay.

He doesn't understand how he could have had such a drastic change-of-heart when just a few hours ago he was trying to _get rid_ of him. When he was ignoring his entire fucking existence. He doesn't understand it one fucking bit, but he still pulls Ten a little closer with the hand on the back of his head.

"You really are a contradiction," Ten smiles, framing his head with his arms, "one minute you want me gone, and the next you're begging me to stay. Which one is it, little witch?"

" _Stay_ ," he whines with dedicated emphasis, "stay the night. You can leave in the morning... just, just stay the night, please." His confidence falters by the end of his plea, his voice softening into a whisper because he's never felt this before.

"Are you sure you want me to stay?"

Taeyong nods before he can think. He isn't ready to part with everything Ten makes him feel. Not yet. "I'm sure. Come to bed with me."

" _Sweetheart_ ," his voice dips flirtatiously, his eyebrows wiggling, "I just made you come and you already want round two?"

He knits his brows together, blushing severely and slaps Ten's arm. " _To_ _sleep_ , you fucking pervert!"

Ten throws his head back with laughter, a look of achievement in his eyes when he meets Taeyong's again. "I think we should get you cleaned up first, sweetheart," he reaches down to his shirt. For a second Taeyong thinks he's about to undress, but he only strips the top layer. He hadn't even realized he was wearing another t-shirt underneath it. "It would be a shame to soil your bed," he winks,

This time the blush spreads down to his chest. _Words_ have always had a powerful effect on him. "I have a name you know, it's - "

" _Don't_ ," Ten cuts him off, harshly, his tone suddenly serious, the air regaining that hardness from before. It catches Taeyong off-guard. "Don't say it. Don't ever tell me what your name is. It's too important. Too revealing."

Taeyong is... taken aback. He blinks dumbly, at a loss for words. "I... why? If I know your name, why can't you know mine? What... what will you do with it?"

For a moment, Ten stays silent. Agonizingly silent. Searching so deeply in his eyes that Taeyong feels a part of his soul become incredibly exposed. "You're not a demon. For us, names are... like _contracts_. They're enablers. The signature on a dotted line, if you will. If you tell me your name, I can't guarantee that I won't... _use_ it."

He doesn't press further.

A slow nod is the only thing he can manage, and the air moves again. "Okay. No big deal. I won't say my name."

Ten smiles, relieved.

"Good."

"So... " Taeyong takes his lip between his teeth, his voice light, with a considerable bounce to it despite the sudden stillness that had overtaken them, "will you quickly clean me up and then come to bed with me?"

"Anything for you, pretty witch."

* * *

When Taeyong wakes up, he's disappointed that he doesn't find any petrichor in the air, the spot beside him empty and very much at room temperature. But when he gets over that, his first instinct is to squeal. High-pitched and loud enough that the birds outside fly away angrily. He thrashes in his bed, rolling from one side to the other with a giddiness spreading across his entire body in an assault of fireworks.

He can hardly believe last night - or, rather, early this morning - was even real.

This is the _lightest_ he's ever felt.

Perhaps, even, _the best_ he's ever felt - and that's just from his hand! A tremble runs up his spine just from _thinking_ about what _going all the way_ with Ten would do to him.

It takes him a few minutes to calm down again as he lays vacantly on his back, staring at his white ceiling, a smile of awe on his face as the night replays in his eyes. _Ten's_ deep eyes. The little wrinkles under them when he smiled. His touch, the fingernails that grazed over his skin and the lips that praised him. The tongue that made him shiver and the teeth that painted him into a work of art. Taeyong sits up and looks at himself in the mirror directly across from his bed.

Fuck - Ten marked him up good.

He _looks_ as if he'd been fucked senseless, and he knows no one will believe the truth, that all he received was some glorified hand-action. He runs a finger over one of the purpling bruises on the side of his neck, stretching it to the side so he can admire it better.

Just the sight of it, the little reminders of their endeavors, it's enough for Taeyong's breath to betray him. He remembers each touch, he recalls exactly how each one of these marks was made and his heartbeat raises just from thinking about it.

"Shit... " he sighs, his eyes trained on a bruise that's just under his jaw - a location that isn't concealable even if he were to wear a turtle-neck _and_ a scarf. "Doyoung is going to fucking kill me."

The thought alone of having to face his best friends brings him dread, but he knows he has to rip it off like a band-aid. He has questions he needs answered, and he knows Doyoung can help.

With that in mind, he maneuvers off the bed and into his slippers when the whisper of the Aleutian fern on his bedside table catches his attention. That's when he notices something, underneath the shade of its leaves

A note.

A note _from Ten_.

Taeyong excitedly picks it up, smiling stupidly as he looks at everything so quickly he hardly reads anything.

He forces himself to slow down.

_A treat for your troubles._

_\- Ten._

_P.S. you sleep-talk._

The letter leaves him thoroughly confused, and a little embarrassed, so he decides to think about it over breakfast.

When he opens his bedroom door, however, he freezes.

His eyes blow wide, lips parting and he brings a hand over his mouth with surprise.

The living room, it's _overflowing_ with chocolate.

Milk chocolate. Dark chocolate. Even white chocolate - every single type of chocolate he can imagine, it's all there, inside his fucking living room.

He looks down at the note in his hands, the words suddenly making sense. "Oh, _Ten_... "

* * *

"Doyoung. _Doyoung_. Kim Doyoung - "

"You _clearly_ see that I'm working," Doyoung mutters from in front of him. Taeyong has been trailing behind him for the past few minutes inside the bookstore he works at, trying - and failing - at getting his attention. When his best friend is working, his attention is severely undivided.

"Yes - yes, I can see that," Taeyong maneuvers around his form, trying to face him but Doyoung is like a fucking fish avoiding a net. It's impossible to make him stay still when he's restocking the shelves. "But I need to talk to you."

"I don't need to _look_ at you to be able to _hear you talk_ , Tyongie," he says. Doyoung - his oldest, dearest friend - is a _neutral_ Witch, but he has an obsessive inclination towards books. _Especially_ books that are old, torn at the seams and bursting with pages and pages of spells. If it hadn't been for Doyoung, he would have never found that massive book of spells that he uses now.

"Doyoung, _please_ ," whines Taeyong, throwing his head back like a child throwing a tantrum, "I need your _entire_ attention!"

Doyoung slides a book into its spot, then finally turns around to face him. "Well, since you've taken the effort to leave your _jungle,_ I'm guessing it's very important."

The _jungle_ being what Doyoung calls Taeyong's house.

"And why the hell are you dressed like that?" Doyoung's expression twists with contempt, "has it been _that_ long since you've left the house that you forgot how to dress?"

"No - I," Taeyong brings an automatic hand to his neck, pulling his scarf right up to his chin, suddenly very conscious - he's wearing a turtle-neck _and_ a large scarf, both of which have completely mismatched colors that further offset the abnormality of his outfit. It _also_ doesn't help that it's only November. It isn't even that cold! 

"Fine, whatever, I'm not going to question your horrible fashion sense," he sighs, "just tell me what it is. I have to get back to work. Can you tell me over here, or is it something... _else?"_

What he means is _witch-related_ talk. The top floor of the bookstore is merely a disguise from the human eye. It has all of _their_ books, and the antiqueness of the building attracts quite a number of customers, which makes _witch-talk_ risky. But right below these creaky floorboards, hidden with magic from the humans, is a vast library of books meant for their sub-species. For witches, fairies, demons, and every other creature that the humans read about in the folklores and science fiction novels just above.

So, of course, Taeyong can't tell him here. There are too many people. Too many humans. It isn't safe.

"I think it will be better is we took this downstairs," he whispers. Doyoung nods in understanding.

They descend the floors via an elevator that can only be accessed with magic - a boring-looking, tiny room that otherwise gives the illusion of a janitor's closet to anyone who is a human. When they reach the library, Taeyong is more than thankful that it's hardly occupied by any customers.

"What is it?"

Taeyong inhales, preparing himself for the inevitable scolding he's going to receive and word vomits in one, long breath: "I was trying to summon chocolate last night but I kept getting other shit so I found a spell, but I misread it or something and I may or may not have accidentally summoned a _Desire Demon_ , but I was able to vanish him but then I accidentally _summoned him_ _again_ but I have no fucking memory of it because I could have swore I didn't sleep _at all_ but when I went out of my room he was _right there_ and he said that I summoned him, but I didn't. I swear I didn't. But - but then... "

His confidence wavers.

Fuck, he really thought he'd be able to get through this but Doyoung's eyes are _piercing_ , and he wouldn't have been able to continue even if he tried.

"Then _what_ , Taeyong?" Doyoung demands, making the air suddenly very dry. His aura is the complete opposite of Ten's. If Ten is like rainfall, then Doyoung is a fucking drought.

Taeyong gulps, hard. "I - uh, I may or may not have made hot chocolate for him... and made out with him... _and stuff_."

Taeyong sees the exact moment realization hits Doyoung like an eighteen-wheeler truck. His eyes blow wide, an infuriated expression taking over his usually gentle features, and Taeyong whines when Doyoung reaches for his scarf and pulls it straight it off his neck.

Oh, Taeyong is _dead_.

"Lee Taeyong," Doyoung breathes, horror in his voice as his eyes flit over the only visible mark that the turtle-neck couldn't hide. "Did you or did you not fuck a Desire Demon?"

Taeyong stutters, shaking his hands and his head erratically, " _I did not_ , I swear, it was only a hand-job!"

Doyoung's features contort with disbelief. "A _hand-job?_ You got away with only a hand-job with a mark like _that_ on your fucking neck?" he yells, catching the attention of the two customers that are, unfortunately, within earshot.

"It was a _really good_ hand-job - "

"Of course it was! It was a _Desire_ Demon that jerked you off, it's supposed to be fucking extraordinary!"

A visible vein pulsates on Doyoung's forehead and he becomes quiet. He brings his fingers to his temple, massaging the stress away.

"Are... are you upset?"

"What do you think?" he snaps.

"...I think you're upset."

Doyoung huffs, annoyed, but worried. " _Of course_ I'm upset. When I gave you all those tips on how to get your romantic life in motion I didn't think you'd go and put it towards flirting with a Desire Demon. It's dangerous. And _very_ costly if you end up with the wrong one. They're greedy, and they don't care about anything but the payment."

"Ten isn't like that - "

" _You know his name?"_ Doyoung cries, almost in hysterics. "Please - _please_ tell me you didn't tell him yours, it's dangerous to - "

"I didn't," he cuts him off. "Ten himself told me very sternly that I should never reveal my name."

Finally, Doyoung... relaxes. He sighs heavily, combing his fingers across his scalp with a perplexed expression on his face.

"I just... I know you're upset, but I need help figuring out how I could have summoned him the second time. I didn't sleep all night. I was fully awake but when I stepped out of my room he was there, and he told me I had summoned him around an hour before _but I was awake_... I don't understand it."

Silence.

Doyoung looks as if he's... lost.

As if his thoughts aren't quite adding up.

"Let's go talk to Taeil about this. I think he would be able to help you better than I can."

Taeyong perks.

"But - _swear_ to me that you will never summon that demon again, Taeyong. _Swear_ it."

Another silence.

Taeyong is reluctant.

He wants to see Ten again. He wants to feel him again, wants to kiss him and thank him for all the chocolate. But this is his best friend.

His closest, _dearest_ friend -

Taeyong nods, weakly. "Okay... I promise."

* * *

Days pass and Taeyong finds himself _depressed_ as he sits on his couch, feeling very lonely. He bites another piece of chocolate to fill the void.

After studying through several books, Taeil - the healing witch and a doctor - suggested he be monitored for a night.

So Taeyong spent a night with a spell cast on him that would record his sleep patterns.

He was positive he hadn't slept a wink, save for just one hour during the early morning, so he was surprised when Taeil told him that he had, in fact, _slept_.

Suddenly, it all made sense - he had summoned Ten while sleep-talking.

Thankfully, Taeil gave him a charm to help him sleep a little more soundly... but Taeyong finds that these days, even the charm doesn't stand a chance against his heartache that's been keeping him up.

He wants to see Ten - _needs_ to see him.

But he can't!

He can't break a promise he's made to his best friend.

Taeyong shoots off his couch and marches to the bookstore.

* * *

"Doyoung. _Doyoung_. Kim - "

" _What?"_

"I want to see Ten."

Slowly, Doyoung puts the book he's holding back inside of a box full of other books just like it. He stands up, brushes off his knees, then presses his lips into a tight, impenetrable line. "Come again?" He tilts his head to the side, but the look in his eyes implies that he's just about ready to rip Taeyong a new one.

"I... I want to see Ten. The Desire Demon - "

" _I know who Ten is_ \- " he hisses, "and I _already_ said no."

"Doyoungie _please_ ," he cries, pouting his lips with the best puppy-dog eyes he can make. "I know you're just worried for me but - but I really like him. I want to see him."

"You don't like him, Tyong. You like that he gave you some hand action."

He isn't _entirely_ wrong. But Taeyong knows there's more to his emotions than just that.

The way his plants reacted, the way they seemed to move with Ten, blooming by his touch. He knows he isn't just another Desire Demon full of greed. In fact, he's certain that most Desire Demons _aren't_ about the payment, and he's willing to bet a few things that they're just the same as witches and all the other sub-species - _misunderstood_.

"It isn't like that, I swear," he pleads, bringing his hands together. "My plants reacted to him, Doyoung. They didn't want him to leave! He was like - like _sunlight_ , to them. Like fresh, nutrient-rich rain and they bloomed under his touch. That _has_ to mean that he's good at heart!"

Doyoung's teeth clench for a moment, upset but deflated. Taeyong knows that Doyoung is all too familiar with his stubbornness.

"How do you know he isn't greedy?"

"I - " Taeyong doesn't know. Not as a fact, at least. But he's got a pretty solid hunch that Ten isn't like that. "I don't... not for certain, but this morning he left me with like _fifty_ pounds of chocolate as thanks or something," he pauses, " _chocolate_ is his summons."

A moment passes.

A heavy, grainy moment, and Taeyong wishes Ten was here so that some moisture can find the air again.

Doyoung rubs both his hands over his face, exasperated, but it seems as if he has accepted defeat. "You like that much?"

"I do," Taeyong smiles, a flutter dancing over his chest because he hadn't quite realized it himself.

"But you've only met him once, how can you be so sure? You've never even been in a relationship before - "

"And I never will unless I take these risks," he takes Doyoung's hands in his own, squeezing them gently.

"Why can't you take these risks with another witch? There's plenty of other people you could date - "

"I want to take it _with_ _Ten_ , if he'll let me. I... I haven't felt this way before. And, and he _understands_ my plants, he can tell that they like him."

Doyoung sighs. He looks right into Taeyong's eyes, trying to make sense of everything. "Even if I agree, what will you do when you end up falling in love with him? What will you do when he has to leave you to please someone else? He can't deny summons. And you can only keep him for so long. Have you even thought about that, Taeyong?"

He hadn't.

The thought hadn't even remotely crossed his mind.

"I'll deal with that should we ever get that far," he says after some time, his voice soft.

There's sympathy in Doyoung's sigh this time, and he brings his hands to Taeyong's shoulders. "You're a stubborn bitch, you know that?"

Taeyong grins. He knows that tone. It's the _I'll-agree-with-you-but-your-stubborn-ass-owes-me_ tone.

" _Fine_ \- " Doyoung breathes, his head dropping between his shoulders, "fine, I'll let you see this _Ten,"_ he looks up again, meeting his eyes very intensely, "but _I swear_ , if he hurts you, if he does even a single thing that crosses the line, he's _dead_. You hear me?"

Oh, Taeyong hears him alright, but happiness is ringing hot in his ears and he can't manage anything besides throwing himself on Doyoung and hugging the breath out of him.

* * *

Taeyong summons Ten that night.

He readies two _very_ large mugs of hot chocolate, topped with a heaping swirl of whipped cream and some sprinkled chocolate shavings. He even went as far as baking a few treats - brownies, and strawberry macaroons.

He recites the spell easily, having memorized it rather eagerly, then completes it by breathing out his name. " _Ten_."

A minute, then it tastes of petrichor again.

His plants hum, their leaves dancing ever so subtly and Taeyong feels his heartbeat speed up.

"Pretty witch."

He turns around from the sofa to find Ten leaning against the back of it exactly as he had the first time.

Except this time, that air of restraint is gone.

There are no barriers. Just the sweet dew in the air between them.

"Ten," he smiles, "you came!"

"Well, you _did_ summon me," he raises a brow, turning the corner of the couch to take a seat beside him. He studies the table, his eyes traveling from the hot chocolate to the treats with a little smile of surprise on his lips. "Did you... do this for me?"

Taeyong nods, feeling rather accomplished. "I did. I... wanted to thank you for the chocolate."

"You really are something," chuckles Ten, a tenderness in his gaze as he meets Taeyong's. A tenderness that he can't quite read into, but his plants can.

And they tell him it's something beautiful.

* * *

"Fuck - _Ten_ ," Taeyong moans, a sting of pleasure running through his veins the moment Ten slams his bare back against the wall.

It's been six months now.

Six _wonderful_ months - and the most exciting, too.

It's as if Ten has awakened a part of Taeyong he wasn't even aware existed. A side of him that's playful, fierce, and _surprisingly_ clingy. He's getting to know _himself_ better. But he's also getting to know Ten, too.

And quite well, at that.

Summoning Ten had started as a _weekly_ thing. Taeyong would only do it when he missed him too much, or when he felt _needy_. It kicked off slow, but by the second month, Taeyong found Ten's name on the tip of his tongue more times than he could ever count. Soon, Ten would be in his space a few times a week, sometimes they'd even go out for coffee or ice-cream or a walk in the park because Ten loves the pond that lines it.

They fell into a routine. Ten would text him when he wasn't occupied by another summons, and Taeyong would say his name with his arms wide open.

Somewhere along the way, this thing they have between them started to feel less like a summons, and more like a _relationship_.

Because Ten would help him make dinner, some nights.

Some nights, Taeyong would be tired and exhausted from a long day of healing plants in need and he'd summon Ten just to cuddle up beside him and sleep, maybe even watch a stupid movie on Netflix. He'd watch Ten tell him about his day, and the stress would fade right off his face.

It seems as though they have done just about _everything_ \- but they haven't gone for the home run. Although, that's about to change _very_ soon.

Taeyong has been waiting until he was ready. Until he was positive that this is what he wants. And Ten... well, Ten has been more than patient. He _never_ crosses Taeyong's boundaries.

Ten kisses down his neck, dipping his tongue into the well between Taeyong's clavicles. He hooks his hands under Taeyong's thighs, lifting him, and Taeyong automatically wraps his legs around his waist, leaning back against the door as Ten easily takes his weight. "I want you - " Taeyong breathes, his voice heavy, almost hoarse.

"How far would you like to go, sweetheart?" Ten hums against his chest, nipping the skin there.

The answer finds him much faster than he'd expected. Taeyong cups Ten's face, guiding him away from his chest to instead meet his eyes. He looks into them deeply, with his mind made up. "All the way."

Quiet.

His plants, the air, Ten's heart. Ten seems to transfix, his eyes wide, but Taeyong feels the shaky breath that he exhales against his skin.

"Unless - unless if you don't want to," he quickly says, embarrassed, and Ten finally breaks out of the momentary spell that had taken over him.

He runs his fingers into Taeyong's hair, "baby, _of course_ I want to, but are you sure you're ready?"

The fucking _concern_ in his voice - Taeyong could almost cry.

"I'm _extremely_ sure," he elongates the word, stroking his thumbs across Ten's cheeks with emphasis. "I want you, Ten, more than anything."

Pink flushes over Ten's cheeks and Taeyong caresses over the little crease that forms under his eyes whenever he smiles like this.

"Well, in that case," Ten sighs, pressing their lips together in a short, sweet kiss. "I'll give you the best fucking sex you could ever have."

The prospect of the words alone would be enough to make Taeyong keen, but when Ten presses their hips flush against each other, his arms secure over his back as he carries him to the bed and throws him onto his back with an incredible amount of care, well, that just about does it.

Ten, standing at the foot of the bed, leans forward and curls his fingers into the band of Taeyong's sweatpants, never breaking eye contact as he pulls them straight down to his ankles.

Being naked in front of Ten isn't something that gets him shy anymore. Rather, he _adores_ it. The vulnerability, the empowerment he feels when just the sight of his naked body makes Ten shiver like this. He fucking loves it.

But he would love to see Ten, too. He has yet to be naked in front of him, and Taeyong is determined to change that.

Ten climbs on top of him, wedging his knee between his legs and frames his head with his arms.

"I want to see you," he says, softly, tucking a few of Ten's bangs behind his ear, the other hand pulling at his shirt with intent.

Ten raises a teasing brow, ghosting a kiss to his lips. "What's stopping you then?"

"Your _clothes_ ," Taeyong breathes, pointedly, but he deflates when a tantalizing, _challenging_ glint flashes over Ten's expression. 

"Then take them off."

Taeyong swallows harder than he should have.

All this fucking time and all he had to do was _take them off_. He rolls his eyes despite the furious blush spreading across his face and works to remove Ten's clothes. Slowly. Because Ten is distracting him with his lips, kissing his softly, sweetly, stopping only to indulge in his reactions. He pulls Ten's shirt over his head and throws it anywhere where it won't get in the way.

Getting rid of his jeans takes a little more effort, but he manages it after a few minutes, with Ten's help. He looks at Ten's naked body as he slips the rest of the way out of his pants and Taeyong takes a moment to memorize everything about him. Even his body is perfect. There isn't a single flaw about him.

"Like what you see, little witch?" Ten grins, climbing back into his previous position on top of him.

"I do. I like what I see very, _very_ much." Taeyong runs his hands up, then down his bare sides, needing to feel every inch of his skin so he can imprint it into his mind.

Ten smiles against his cheek, then presses a kiss there. "I very much like what I see, too."

Taeyong doesn't miss the subtle shift that had sweetened the air just as Ten said that. He thinks it might mean something, that the words he's just said might have a deeper sentiment to them but he can't think about that right now.

Not when Ten slides his fingers deep inside him with ease - the three _operative_ fingernails of his right hand now _a lot_ shorter and purposefully rounded. He's become incredibly familiar with Taeyong's body, too. He knows how to make him squirm, knows exactly where to curl his fingers, and in such a way that Taeyong is already halfway to the stars. He knows all the places that make him moan, all the spots where Taeyong loves feeling the praise of his fingers - lips - tongue - teeth.

Six months and Ten already knows him so fucking well.

When Ten slides into him for the first time, the air tastes of honey. It tastes of sweet nectar, of the morning dew and Taeyong can't tell if it's beginning to rain outside because of the weather or because of Ten.

He digs his fingers into Ten's back, his jaw lax and head thrown back in bliss and Ten thrusts into him, their pelvises meeting each time. Ten kisses him. He kisses him for as long as he can until it's too much and the kisses become open-mouthed moans that sing around the room. Ten rests their foreheads together, holding Taeyong close. Holding him tenderly.

"So good," Ten breathes, looking into his eyes, his pretty blond hair falling perfectly over his face, a sheen of sweat over his forehead and his cheeks blushed with heat. Truly a vision of eroticism. "You feel so good, my pretty witch."

A massive heat pools past Taeyong's navel and his body stutters, breath trembling as he begins to come undone, as the entire universe comes to a complete halt just for them. His hands shake and he holds onto Ten even tighter, getting high off his moans, off the parted lips that drag against his skin and Taeyong comes harder than he ever has before, mind going blank with nothing but Ten's name rolling off his tongue.

Ten comes inside him just moments later, the blissful sensation of his warm release filling him with something Taeyong could easily become addicted too. Because although Ten is cold to the touch, he's just as warm on the inside as anyone else.

Ten collapses on top of him, his breathing erratic. He curls into Taeyong's body and the universe begins to move again.

Moments pass until he finds breath. He kisses the crown of Ten's head, smiling foolishly, and his mind automatically settles with a thought that he suddenly wants to make a reality.

"Ten," he says after a few minutes. Ten hums without moving, the side of his face still smushed against his chest. Taeyong continues after inhaling a steadying breath. "Will... will you be my boyfriend?"

It seems as though Ten stops breathing, surprised by the sudden question. He lifts his face, his eyes wide and adorable. "Sweetheart, you do know that I'm a _Desire Demon_ , right?" he asks, genuinely concerned that Taeyong might have forgotten that bit of information.

"I know."

"Then you should _also_ know that I'm required to see other people."

Dread pulls at his heart, but Taeyong is stubborn.

Incredibly stubborn, and he isn't about to accept defeat.

"I - I know that, but... haven't you ever wanted to be in a relationship? Like, a _proper_ relationship?"

Ten sighs, shifting until he's perched on an elbow beside Taeyong. Taeyong already knows his answer just by the movement in the air. "More than anything," he breathes, a weak smile on his lips as he gazes into Taeyong's eyes with an overflow of emotions. He traces the back of his knuckles down the side of Taeyong face. "But I'm afraid I can't afford that for as long as my... _contract_ is sealed. And I can't watch you suffer every time someone else summons me. I would never put you through something like that. You... deserve someone who can be there for you, someone who can always stay by your side. I... can't do that for you, sweetheart. You deserve someone better than me."

Taeyong's heart drops to his stomach. "I don't want someone better, Ten, I want _you!"_ he cries.

"I want you too, sweetheart, but - "

"What if I found a way to break your contract?" he cuts him off, eagerly, and leans on an elbow too so their eyes can level.

"I don't think there's - "

Taeyong cuts him off again. "But if _I did_ \- say, _hypothetically_ , if I found a way to break it, would you want to leave your life as a Desire Demon behind? Is that something you would be willing to do?"

Ten parts his lips, taken aback by the firmness of his tone and the spark in his eyes. He presses his lips into a line and Taeyong silently coaxes him into speaking the truth.

"I would," he finally says, "I would leave it behind in a heartbeat."

* * *

"Doyoung. _Doyoung_ \- "

"Say Kim Doyoung _one more time_ while I'm working and see what happens," Doyoung hisses, pointing the dulled point of the pencil he's holding right to Taeyong's throat.

"If I'm not going to call you by your name then how am I supposed to call you?"

Doyoung presses his lips together in thought. " _Lord_ Doyoung."

"Fuck no."

Doyoung jabs the pencil into his skin, lightly, but Taeyong makes an exaggerated sound of pain anyways. "What made you come out of your jungle this time? Though... I noticed you've been getting out more these days. You're looking healthier, too."

Taeyong blushes a little. He's never been used to hearing compliments from Doyoung. He _rarely_ ever speaks them into existence. "Thanks... I, uh, I've been going out with Ten quite a lot."

"He's not crossing any boundaries, is he?"

Taeyong shakes his head. "Not at all. He's very respectful of them. He's very respectful of _me_."

There's relief on Doyoung's face. Relief that makes Taeyong happy, because the support of his best friend means the world to him. "He makes you happy, doesn't he?"

A soft, automatic smile pulls at his lips and he nods his head, shyly, but with confidence. "He makes me _very_ happy."

Doyoung smiles too. "I assume you've come looking for my help to figure out a way to break Ten's contract?"

Taeyong blinks, rapidly, absolutely dumbfounded, "I - how did you know?"

"I've known from the moment you asked me to let you see him again. I knew you'd try and find a way to make him stay, although, I didn't think you'd take _half a year_ to try and finally do it."

"Half a year is a long time, Doyoung," Taeyong pouts, then - " _wait_ ," his eyes go wide with excitement, "does that mean you've already found a way to do it?"

" _Of course_ I did," he says casually, a prideful smirk on his face.

Taeyong could fucking cry, but he opts for throwing himself on his best friend instead, almost making him crash against the bookshelf behind him. "You're fucking amazing, _Lord_ Doyoung!"

* * *

Doyoung brings him to the heart of the city, with Taeil and his roommate, Johnny, loaded in the car with them. Johnny's cousin - a Lunar witch - fell in love with a Desire Demon that he used to summon for an old, dirty CEO of some multi-billion dollar company in America. And they fell _hard_. Hard enough that he found a way to break the contract.

Johnny rings the buzzer of the apartment building where his cousin lives - a tall, lavish thing that looks as if it's suited more for offices rather than apartments.

"It's Johnny," he says when it beeps, and the door unlocks in a second. They take the elevator to the seventh floor and Taeyong senses the sudden change in the wavelengths of the air surrounding them which implies there is a witch nearby.

Of course, Johnny, Taeil, and Doyoung are witches too, but Taeyong knows their auras like the back of his hand.

This new aura, it must be Johnny's cousin - calm, flowing gently like wind through autumn leaves.

They reach a door with a welcome sign hanging off of it. Johnny reaches to knock but it opens before he can.

"Jungwoo!" He greets ecstatically, taking him into a hug.

_Jungwoo_ is Johnny's cousin.

Johnny introduces all of them, but when he gets to Taeyong, Jungwoo seems to read something in his eyes that makes him fidget in his spot.

He seems to know exactly what's inside of his heart. It's as if he can read his thoughts and Taeyong wonders if Johnny's already disclosed the specifics of his situation to him.

He hasn't, Taeyong finds out very soon.

"I already know," Jungwoo smiles, "you don't need to explain it to me, Johnny."

"Oh, right - " Johnny scratches his nape, "I forgot you have that ability."

Jungwoo places a hand on Taeyong's shoulder. "Come with me," he points towards a door that's behind Taeyong with a nudge of the head, "I can't exactly share these things with everyone," he says, then looks apologetically to everyone else but they nod in understanding.

The room Jungwoo takes him to is small. The walls are lined with many historical books, with a few spellbooks scattered about. On the table in the center is a small cauldron that is in dire need of cleaning, and a few herbs scattered around it with little organization.

"Sit," Jungwoo motions for one of the sofa-chairs in front of the table. Taeyong does as he's told, and Jungwoo takes a seat across from him. "I see that you've fallen for a Desire Demon."

Well, that was to the point. Taeyong nods. "I have."

"Tell me, Taeyong," he leans forward on his elbows, lacing his fingers over the table with a knowing look in his eyes. "What are you willing to sacrifice for this person?"

Taeyong's heart is pounding in his chest. He stutters, slightly intimidated. "I - anything I need to."

" _Anything?"_

Taeyong licks over his lips, then nods. "Anything. I would sacrifice anything for him."

Jungwoo settles back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and Taeyong sits up a little straighter to counter him. A minute passes. A minute that feels like an hour, with nothing but the muted sounds of the conversations from the living room and the intense lock of their gazes, then -

"What about your soul?"

Taeyong finds it hard to breathe. "M - my soul?"

"Are you willing to sacrifice your soul?"

It feels as if Taeyong's throat might close.

He knew that the sacrifice would have to be a big one. Something _profound_.

" _Who_... exactly, would I be sacrificing my soul to?" He asks, cautiously.

"To your demon, of course."

It surprises Taeyong, how easily the answer finds him. Without hesitance, without even a sliver of doubt, he nods his head with a determined air surrounding his entire body. "I am more than willing to sacrifice my soul to him."

The grin on Jungwoo's face implies he'd already known his answer.

"I'll tell you the ritual, then."

* * *

The ritual is anything but an easy one.

Taeyong has to place charms in the oddest places of his home - most of which he can hardly reach without the help of his plants - he has to use a specific type of charged water which, thankfully, Jungwoo provided for him. He looks to himself in his bathroom mirror, trying his best to re-draw the symbol Jungwoo had drawn out for him on a piece of paper over his heart with a very fine ground, white powder.

He sets the paper down, washes his hands to get the powder off, then pulls a loose sweater over his head that could easily expose his chest if pulled the right way. He goes into the living room where his cauldron is bubbling, and beside it is another paper on which Jungwoo wrote the spell on. Taeyong exhales, heavily, trying to prepare himself.

Will he feel lighter without a soul? Would he change? Would he still be able to do magic? Will his plants be okay?

He thinks he should have asked Jungwoo these questions before agreeing, but he figures that if Jungwoo is doing just fine without his soul in his body, then he should be fine, too.

With that in mind, he summons Ten and the air is sweet again.

"I missed you, pretty witch."

Taeyong turns around and a smile instantly falls on his lips. "I missed you too, Ten."

Ten is dressed very casually, in just a T-shirt and sweatpants, his blonde hair hardly styled. He looks as if he's just stepped out of the shower. He looks soft like the petals of some of his most delicate flowers and Taeyong loves it. He adores the sight of Ten like this.

He crosses over to where Ten is standing and wraps his arms around his shoulders, then kisses him.

These days, his kisses feel different. The buds that used to spread across his chest when they'd first met have become permanent now, always in full bloom and ever vibrant. Taeyong rests his forehead against Ten's when they pull apart. "I have good news."

Ten raises a brow, "oh?"

"I found a way to break your contract."

Silence.

Ten looks up at him in surprise and stops moving altogether.

"If... if you're sure that you want to stay with me, and... and that you don't want to be a Desire Demon anymore, then I can break it. I have everything ready, too. I just need your okay to go ahead with it."

Ten looks as if he might cry.

It's the first time Taeyong has seen such emotion on his face. Such raw, unfiltered feelings that he quickly reaches with a hand to hold his face in his palm.

" _How_ \- " is the only thing Ten manages, his voice cracking.

"A friend of mine has a cousin that figured out a way to do it. He... also fell for a Desire Demon, so he found a way to break his contract so they could be together. I - I want to be with you, Ten."

Ten leans forward and buries his head in the crook of Taeyong's neck, no doubt to hide his face. Taeyong wraps his arms around him, holding him close, electricity springing across his body because he never gets to hold Ten like this - he's usually the one in this position. Never Ten.

"How do we break it?" Ten finally mumbles, without lifting his head.

"There's a spell involved and some charms," he says, "oh, and some of your blood, too. But only like a little bit." He knows that if he tells Ten _the specifics_ , he would never agree to it. So he keeps quiet about the _sacrifice of his soul_ part to the ritual.

Another silence passes between them, then Ten finally lifts his head, disbelief still written over his features. Taeyong moves his hands to cup both his cheeks.

"I... want to be with you too," Ten finally says.

Taeyong can't help but smile. "So... "

Ten nods, and Taeyong sees the tears he's fighting back. "Yes - _fuck_ , yes, let's do it."

And so they do.

Taeyong does exactly as Jungwoo has instructed him, carefully tending to every detail with such concentration that even his plants are surprised. He hardly knows how much time has passed, perhaps a few hours, he thinks. The sun has already retired, replaced now by the moon, and he feels his energy draining. Fast.

"How much longer is the ritual?" Ten asks, whispering as to not disturb their progress. They're sat across from each other on the couch, the lights dimmed and the cauldron bubbling on the coffee table beside them. "Can you take a break to rest?"

Taeyong shakes his head, his lips still reciting the spell, his throat extremely dry from the repeated chanting, his arm is fucking aching from swirling that vial of charged water from Ten, to him, to the cauldron, then back to Ten. Another fifteen minutes pass and he finally whispers the last line of the spell. He pours the water into the cauldron and the room spills a deep shade of red. "Your hand, _quick_ ," he commands and Ten extends his hand. Taeyong holds it palm-up, then makes a small cut over the center of his hand. It's _just_ large enough that his blood will cover the symbol he's drawn on his chest.

With his free hand, he pulls the collar of his sweater over his shoulder, guiding Ten's hand to his chest and he places it over the symbol before Ten has a chance to react.

Taeyong presses Ten's hand firmly against his chest, careful that his blood soaks every centimeter of the powder, then he leans close to him, balancing himself with his free hand on Ten's shoulder because he can hardly hold himself up anymore and he whispers, his lips brushing against the curve of Ten's ear, " _Taeyong_."

Silence... erupts.

It's as if the calm before the storm passed over them for one, paralyzing second only to shift the entire world on its axis. The air cracks, loud and unbearable, ringing hot in his eardrums. Taeyong hears Ten's screams but they're muted to his ears, he feels his fingernails dig into the skin of his chest, feels his body tremble as the symbol burns into his skin and it's as if a veil has been lifted when suddenly, everything... stops.

_Everything_.

And he feels... _lighter_.

As if he's missing a piece of himself.

But when he forces himself to lift his head and meet Ten's gaping eyes, he finds it staring back at him and he smiles.

"What did you do?" Ten cries with heavy breaths, alarm in his voice as he looks right into Taeyong's eyes. " _Little witch_ , what did you just do to yourself?" he howls, his voice pitching terribly, fear taking over every inch of his face. Taeyong panics.

"I - I broke your contract - "

Ten... starts crying.

He cries and the air becomes the sweetest it's ever been, like that very first rain of the spring, the one that brings all those oils out from the Earth. The rain that brings life and rebirth.

"Why did you do this to yourself," Ten sobs and Taeyong gathers him straight into his arms, rubbing his hands up and down his back, Ten almost on his lap. "Why would you ever do something like this for me - " his voice cracks.

"Because... " Taeyong whispers, the exhaustion finally taking its toll on his body and he rests his head on Ten's head. "You're my favorite human-type, Ten."

That... that just about does it.

Ten bursts into loud, hiccupping sobs. "Thank you - " he cries between sharp, broken inhales, "thank you," he repeats, over and over again until the words become muddle with his tears.

"Shh, baby - it's okay," Taeyong whispers into his ear, tears finding his own eyes as he cradles Ten, "you're okay now, Ten... you're free now."

* * *

"Trick or treat."

Taeyong turns from where he's sitting in front of the dresser to find Ten leaning on the doorframe of the bedroom - _their_ bedroom now.

He can hardly believe it's already been a year since they met.

A breathtaking, _gorgeous_ year. And the most vibrant of his life, too - even without a soul.

There hasn't been much of a difference without one, He still feels the same. He's still as stubborn and awkward and direct as he was when he had one. He can still do magic, he can still heal plants. His life hasn't _changed_ in any significant way.

His body might fatigue more frequently, but that's nothing he can't take care of. Sure, he might be a little more _susceptible_ to some things, like depression, anxiety, and the dark arts, but those are things he can control with little changes to his routine - especially with Ten by his side.

"Aw, _baby_ \- " Taeyong coos, "that was the first thing you ever said to me, remember?"

"How could I ever forget, my little witch?" Ten pushes off the doorframe and crosses to where Taeyong is with a loving smile on his face. He still called him that, and Taeyong couldn't find it in himself to complain. The nickname - which was just a nickname now, because Ten _loved_ saying his name - had struck a chord in his heart. It was dear to him. And the little piece of himself that he'd given to Ten smiles every time he calls him his _little witch_ \- his pretty witch - a gentle reminder of where they started from. "Today is the anniversary of when I first laid eyes on the prettiest witch to ever exist," he wraps his arms around his shoulders from behind, pressing small kisses down the side of his face. "The witch who captivated my heart from the moment I met his big doe eyes," he kisses just beside his eye and Taeyong watches him in the mirror with his heart tugging in every direction. Ten still took care to praise him every opportunity he got. "The love of my life."

Fuck - Taeyong's heart might just stop from the overwhelm of emotions. He stills, the words echoing in his ears and he meets Ten's eyes in the mirror, he sees that glimmer of intent flash across his eyeballs and the air surrounding them is suddenly much thicker.

Sweeter - like honey.

It's purposeful.

Ten has never been great at being _direct_ with his emotions.

"You - " Taeyong breathes, blinking rapidly to rid the tears ready to spill from his eyes - he's thankful he hasn't applied any moisturizer yet, else it would have just soaked down his cheeks.

Ten speaks before he can continue. "I do," he whispers, voice heavy.

"You do _what_?" he smiles, forcing his tears back. He needs to hear Ten say it. _Properly_ say it.

"I - _you know_ \- "

"Hm, I don't think so," he teases, watching the way Ten's cheeks redden. He hides his face in Taeyong's bare shoulder. "You haven't told me anything yet."

"I - _Yongie_ , _"_ Ten whines into his skin and it's fucking adorable. He almost decides to let it go and put Ten out of his misery, but -

Taeyong turns in his spot, startling his boyfriend, and grabs Ten by the waist, using the leverage to pull him down straight onto his lap until he's straddling his lap. He loves the small sound of surprise that leaves Ten's mouth. He fucking adores getting him to react like this.

Ten stares at him wide-eyed, and Taeyong encourages a palm up the side of his torso. He settles his hands on Taeyong's shoulders, and Taeyong can tell he's nervous. Just like that first time, the chill in the air and slight pressure. The anticipation, the expectation between them.

Then the world stops moving for a single heartbeat when Ten inhales a shaky breath, then exhales. "I love you."

The universe stops, too.

"I'm _in love_ with you, Lee Taeyong."

He knew what Ten was going to say, but the words still hit him like a wave. He blinks, several times, the tears he's been fighting finally spilling down his cheeks and Ten panics. He brings his hands to them, swiping the wetness away with a look of pure worry in his eyes.

"Baby - I, why are you crying, is that not what you wanted me to say?" his voice pitches with concern and Taeyong cries _harder_. He full-on sobs. "Did I say it wrong? Should I have said something else?" Taeyong tries to shake his head but his dexterity fails him. "I'm sorry, baby - Just ignore what I said, just forget about it, I don't expect you to say - "

_"I love you too!"_ cries Taeyong, hiccupping, "I'm crying because _I love you too,_ Ten - fuck, I love you so much - "

Ten leans back, looking as if he's in a daze. He searches Taeyong's glazed eyes, then breathes a slow, uneven breath. "You - you do?"

"Of course I do, Ten," Taeyong sniffles, wiping the tears off his face with the back of his sleeve but Ten laces their fingers instead. "I've loved you since like, I don't know - for _months_ now."

"Oh, sweetheart, why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted you to say it first," he says, voice small.

Ten hold lets go of his fingers only to hold his face tenderly in his palms. "You truly are something else, you know that?"

Taeyong feels love from his voice. Warmth. Sunlight. And the roses in their bedroom lean towards them to catch some of its essence.

"It's okay Tennie, you can just say I'm stubborn."

"Yes, yes you are," he sighs, smiling. Taeyong doesn't miss the tear that rolls down _his_ cheek. He's never seen Ten cry since the night they broke the contract. _Never_. Until now. "But your my stubborn, beautiful little witch, and I wouldn't have you any other way."

Taeyong smiles. He leans his forehead against Ten's, the moment sweet and heartwarming when suddenly the doorbell rings.

"These fucking automatic lights, I swear," grumbles Taeyong. Ten chuckles, leaning back in his lap, then kisses him on the forehead with such tenderness, with such loaded warmth that Taeyong loses his breath.

The doorbell rings again.

Then again!

Taeyong still doesn't understand the audacity of kids these days.

"I can take care of those for you, if you'd like?" Ten climbs off from his lap, taking Taeyong's hands in his own.

"The kids or the lights?" Taeyong raises a brow.

"The lights."

The doorbell rings frantically now.

Ten pulls him up from the chair and leads him through the living room, grabbing a small bowl full of treats on the way which Taeyong _would_ protest about - but it has all the things he hates.

"Can you really get them to turn off?" he whispers to Ten.

"I'm a demon, sweetheart. I can do just about anything," he winks. Taeyong smiles, and he lets Ten reach for the doorknob.

He can tell before well before he opens the door that it's the same kids that bothered him last year. Their bags are full again, except the addition of a year to their lives has somehow made them _snobbier_.

"Trick or treat!" the kids scream, but Ten seems to be unbothered by it. He reaches into the bowl and begins dropping candies into their bags, until he reaches the kid without a costume and drops a toothbrush into his bag, instead. Taeyong recognizes him. He hadn't worn one last year, too.

"I don't want a stupid toothbrush," he makes a sour face, holding the brush with just the tips of his fingers.

Ten narrows his eyes into the child's, almost frighteningly. "I'm sorry, little one, but you need to put in the _effort_ to receive candy. No costume, no candy."

Taeyong is positive he's just fallen in love with Ten all over again.

That tone, the edge to his voice, the way the kid shudders at the challenging undertone - it's fucking hot.

"You two aren't in costume, either. What are you supposed to be dressing up as, boring adults?" One of them sneers, and Taeyong silently turns a few of the candies inside of her bag into toothpaste.

" _Actually_ ," Ten leans against the doorframe, staring pointedly into the kids' eyes. "I'm a demon, and my boyfriend here is a witch."

"You don't _look_ like a demon," the one without a costume criticizes, "and he doesn't look anything like a witch."

"Oh, we're _so sorry_ ," Taeyong cuts in, his tone condescending, "we forgot our pointy hats and horns inside."

"Your costumes suck," another kid says, "haven't you ever watched TV? Do you two even _know_ what demons and witches look like?"

Taeyong is just about ready to curse them with... _cavities_ , or something, and he almost turns all their candies into something terrible when Ten reaches for his hand. He can tell he's done something.

"Oh, you kids are _so_ right," he says, a feigned look of embarrassment taking over his features. "Thank you for letting us know. We should go _educate_ ourselves, sweetheart," he looks to Taeyong, a sly, mischievous little smile quirking on his lips. The kid's huff, already turning to take their leave and Ten closes the door, then leans against it with the sexiest, most up-to-no-good smile Taeyong has ever fucking seen.

"What did you do?" he asks, slowly.

The corner of Ten's mouth rises with a smirk. Then, suddenly, the automatic lights switch off and Taeyong hears the kids _screech_.

"Oh, nothing," Ten shrugs, holding back the urge to laugh. "I just thought your milkweeds should stretch _their legs_ ," he motions towards the outside with a nudge of the head.

"You - they -" Taeyong points from Ten, then to the window, then hurries to look outside. Just as Ten said, his milkweed is fucking _walking_. They've swaying about, their roots acting as legs and their long wispy ends gently smacking the kids right off their lawn. Taeyong almost can't believe his eyes. It's the most absurd thing he's ever seen, and he's a fucking witch! "How - how long will they be doing that for?"

"Just until the kids are gone," Ten winks, then he places the bowl of candy to the side table beside the door and laces his hands with Taeyong's, leading him further inside. "Should we summon more chocolate, sweetheart?" Ten asks very casually as if they still can't hear the frightened screaming of the kids outside.

Taeyong blinks, then snaps out of his awe. "I think we have enough," he looks around the room - _overflowing_ with chocolate. The complete opposite of what this room looked like last year. There are a few other types of candies too - fruit chews and cookies and other sweet little treats, some of them from Thailand which Ten had insisted he try. "But I would like to summon you to the bed. You were so fucking hot back there."

Ten smiles. "I'm glad you liked my little act," he says, walking them backwards towards the bedroom with both their hands laced. "How far would you like to go, Taeyong?"

Even after all this time, Ten still asks.

And it swells in every chamber of Taeyong's heart.

"All the way, but with me inside you."

A blush spreads across Ten's face, and he sighs, a soft expression on his face. "So shy, yet you say things so bold. You're a walking contradiction, sweetheart." He sits down on the bed and Taeyong climbs on top of him, maneuvering him towards the center with his body.

Taeyong frames Ten's head with his arms, nudging the tip of his nose against his boyfriends. "But I'm _your_ walking contradiction, right?" He wedges his knee between Ten's legs, spreading them.

"Mine," Ten breathes, hooking his arms over his shoulders, "my sweet walking contradiction," Taeyong kisses down his throat, working Ten's sweatpants down to his knees. "My beautiful Taeyong," Ten moans, stretching his neck back with pleasure when Taeyong leaves a nice, big, purple mark right under his jaw. Ten draws his face back up with his hands, looking right into the brown of Taeyong's eyes with raw, unfiltered emotion spilling from the air and into Taeyong's skin, that sweet taste of petrichor thick on his tongue when Ten kisses him deeply. Slowly. Unrushed, yet sparking with electricity.

When their lips part, Taeyong feels his world settle. And when he looks into Ten's pretty eyes, when he sees the loving gaze in them, the warmth that's meant for Taeyong alone, he feels... _complete_.

"You'll always be my pretty witch," Ten sighs into his mouth.

And Taeyong realizes then, that no amount of candy or chocolate could ever satiate him the way _Ten_ does.


End file.
